


Disconnected Drabbles

by Samm the Sham (TeamAbaddon), TeamAbaddon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Car Sex, Church Sex, Consensual Violence, Demon Dean Winchester, Human Castiel, M/M, Morning Sex, Nephilim Castiel, Sexual Violence, Spoilers, Spoilers for the end of season 6 - episode 19 of season 8, Underage Drinking, slight bloodplay, teenage fuckery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:57:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAbaddon/pseuds/Samm%20the%20Sham, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAbaddon/pseuds/TeamAbaddon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Destiel drabbles, unrelated to each other, covering several different alternate universes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Church

**Author's Note:**

> You can stalk our Lord and Dictator (aka the person who does 90% of all the writing for Team Abaddon) on Tumblr at [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com).

Dean didn’t understand how Castiel could keep a straight face, staring straight ahead at his father as he gave his Hell Fire and Brimstone sermon, while slowly stroking Dean’s cock.

If anyone decided to look at the back pew at the boys they’d have known what was going on; it’s not like a trenchcoat thrown over Dean’s lap would have prevented them from seeing the steady motion of Castiel’s hand stroking up and down, pausing once he’d reached the top to swipe his thumb along the slit and spreading pre-cum along the head before slowing stroking down.

It was all Dean could do not to make a noise, teeth digging into his bottom lip until he tasted blood and fingers scraping against the hard wood of the pew. He pressed his feet against the carpeted floor, digging his heels in while fighting the urge to thrust up into Castiel’s hand.

And Castiel just stared ahead, head tilting every so often. Whenever Dean’s breath would catch he would smile, just a little quirk of the lips, and pick up the pace.

By the time the congregation was bowing their heads in prayer Dean was leaning forward, fingers gripping the back of the pew in front of him with his forehead pressed against the cold wood. Castiel was stroking him in earnest, leaning towards Dean just a little more to whisper, “come for me, Dean,” in his ear and Dean was just fucking done.

Dean came with a muffled cry that was (mostly) overshadowed by the chorus of, “amen,” from the congregation.

He could hear the people standing for the last song from the choir before everyone was dismissed to go about their Sunday. Castiel was chuckling as he cleaned his hand on the inside of his trenchcoat and helped Dean clean himself up so he was at least a little presentable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can stalk our Lord and Dictator (aka the person who does 90% of all the writing for Team Abaddon) on Tumblr at [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com).


	2. Smoke On The Water

Dean browsed through Castiel’s iPod lazily; glancing at the names of bands he’d never heard of and some he recognized from the t-shirts the teen wore almost religiously.

He pushed the earbuds in, selecting a song at random to see what the nephilim listened to while sitting in the backseat of the impala or in the middle of a hunt (it had worried Dean at first, always scared him that the kid would end up a vamp snack because he hadn’t heard it coming up behind him, but Castiel had yet to be caught off guard).

The song started - guitar and drums and bass and a yell - a steady heavy rhythm that made Dean’s ears ache from the volume of it. He glanced at the display on the iPod - Stupid by Girugamesh - before skipping on to the next song. He smiled, the oh so familiar riff of Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water suddenly filling his ears.

Castiel was a weird one - always leaving his dingy Chuck Taylors in random places in the hotel rooms (Dean would always trip on them, **always** ) and listening to music Dean couldn’t get into (who the fuck even listened to Op Ivy anymore?) but Dean liked him that way.

He liked the way Castiel would sit for hours with Sam discussing the newest episode of Doctor Who when they were on a nine hour drive from the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, South Carolina to God Only Fucking Knows Where, Pennsylvania. He liked the way Castiel would crawl into bed with him on the nights he lost at rock-paper-scissors and had to take the cot or couch in the hotel room. He liked the way Castiel would insult someone so politely they didn’t even realize he’d called them a fucking idiot until a good thirty minutes later.

He liked how Castiel would sing The Immigrant Song loud and off key with him in the car, much to Sam’s chagrin and how he’d completely demolished five demons the first time the half angel had met him and Sam with a series of expertly placed devil’s traps, a few quickly delivered exorcisms, and a righteous fury that would have brought the Devil to his knees.

Dean barely noticed when Trampled Under Foot started playing, Castiel stepping out of the bathroom with his towel draped over one shoulder, because it hit him just then that he was probably (at least a little bit) in love with the eighteen year old badass nephilim called Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can stalk our Lord and Dictator (aka the person who does 90% of all the writing for Team Abaddon) on Tumblr at [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com).


	3. Entwined

Castiel arched up into Dean’s body, the blade of the demon’s knife pressing into his neck until it drew blood. His eyes stuttered shut on a breath, eyes rolling back as he moaned out a litany of Hallelujahs in time to each steady thrust, bite, and shallow cut.

“Look how far you’ve fallen.” Dean’s tongue lapped at the blood, his hips rolling as he pushed back inside roughly. Castiel raked his nails down Dean’s back, fingers brushing upwards against the skin that had risen and split in the wake of his nails. Dean bowed his head, pressed an almost tender kiss on Castiel’s cheek before frantically biting and nipping at the angel’s mouth.

The blood and carnage of their previous interrogation - a nest of demons who hadn’t stood a chance once they revealed they had no useful information on Sam’s whereabouts - was a distant memory as the angel and the demon clawed and bit and fucked until their bodies were covered in sweat and blood.

“I haven’t fallen yet.” Castiel knew it was inevitable, though. No angel was allowed to have this; it was forbidden, even more so than procreating with humans was. When Dean came back a demon he should have killed him, Righteous Man or not. They were natural enemies, after all.

But it would have been like cutting off his own wings. Like ripping his grace out and casting it into the flames. They were entangled; Dean’s mangled soul and Castiel’s grace so entwined that it was impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began.

“I’ll turn Heaven into a pile of ash if they try to take you from me, Cas.” And Castiel knew Dean meant it; knew that he could do it. Castiel cried out, muscles tensing and heart racing as he came. Dean continue to thrust, pushing himself harder and deeper into Castiel until he was sated, riding out his orgasm before pulling out and sitting back on his haunches. Castiel sat up, crawled towards Dean until the demon was sitting on the filthy floor with a lap full of slowly falling angel.

“We’ll find Sam, Dean.” Dean nodded, watching as the wounds on Castiel’s body began to heal as if they’d never been there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can stalk our Lord and Dictator (aka the person who does 90% of all the writing for Team Abaddon) on Tumblr at [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com).


	4. Creepin Up The Backstairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was inspired by Creepin Up The Backstairs by The Fratellis. The song mentioned in the fic, Paradise By The Dashboard Light, is by Meat Loaf.

They’d met at a shitty party in an even shittier part of town, both embarrassed to meet the other in a house with holes in the wall and ratty carpet with questionable stains on nearly every surface. But they’d met, and neither one regretted that.

They were drunk, bodies pressed together more than necessary for the number of people surrounding them, Dean’s hand on Castiel’s hip with his thumb tracing circles on the jut of bone.

It was in the middle of dancing a while later - Castiel’s hips undulating to the beat of the house music, grinding his ass against Dean’s hard cock - when Dean’s breath ghosted across Castiel’s ear with a question of, “Wanna get out of here?”

They left together, climbing into Dean’s car and barely making it two minutes down the road before Dean was pulling to the curb. Castiel was leaning against the passenger door, pants at his knees and Dean’s mouth around him when the cop caught them.

They’d been grounded when their parents came to pick them up, naturally, and Castiel’s parents had forbidden him to ever see Dean again. Not that he listened.

Dean’s parents were out of town, leaving him and Sam alone at home. They’d struck a deal; Sam wouldn’t tell if Dean snuck out of the house as long as Dean taught Sam to drive when he got the keys to the impala back. Dean hadn’t agreed to anything faster, and thirty minutes later he had Castiel’s tongue down his throat before he’d even made it all the way in through Castiel’s bedroom window.

They took Gabriel’s keys, sneaking out the back door of Castiel’s home as quietly as they could.

They drove to the lake, climbing over the seats of the Grand Cherokee and shedding clothes as fast as they could without hurting themselves or each other.

It was after three in the morning and Paradise By The Dashboard Light was playing while Dean fucked into Castiel, one hand braced on the back of the seat and the other wrapped around Castiel’s cock. It was clumsy and messy, fast and hard. Castiel was loud, head pressing into the seat and back arching every so often when Dean would press against his prostate.

It was fast and hard, a rhythm set by teenage lust and pent up sexual frustration from late night phone sex.

It was nearing six when Castiel stumbled in the front door of his home, fucked out and limping with a sated smile. Gabriel met him at the door, shaking his head and holding his hand out for his keys, “Go take a shower quick, you reek of sex.”

Dean had laughed on the phone later that night when Castiel recounted having to sit through church, tired and ready to go to bed and how everyone kept asking what happened to make him wince when he sat down and limp when he walked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can stalk our Lord and Dictator (aka the person who does 90% of all the writing for Team Abaddon) on Tumblr at [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com).


	5. Portals in Purgatory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS FOR PARTS OF SEASON 6, PARTS OF SEASON 7, AND PARTS OF SEASON 8!!!!

“Wait a friggin’ moment. There’s a portal to Hell. In Purgatory? How the Hell does that even make sense, Sammy? After all that shit between Cas and Crowley you’re telling me Crowley could have gotten to Purgatory by storming the fucking back door?” It made no sense; the fact that Crowley was helping Castiel obtain the souls of Purgatory through some ancient ritual when he had the backstage pass all along.

“I don’t think it was about getting to Purgatory, I think it was about getting the souls out of Purgatory. Not just getting there, but finding a way to harness the power of the souls. You were there, you killed things there, you should have a decent understanding of it.” Dean had to admit, Sam was right. When they killed in Purgatory the souls became nothing; they simply just stopped  ** _being_**.

So maybe Crowley did know how to get to Purgatory, maybe he knew that the Reapers could take them or that there was a a backdoor. But going to Purgatory and getting back out? Well, even Cas had admitted, while in Purgatory, that he wasn’t sure if he could pass through the portal back to Earth. He was an angel in a vessel, not exactly a human hopping the bus. And Sam had had to bring Bobby out the same way Dean brought Benny out.

There was too much chance involved; Crowley and Cas wouldn’t have laid siege to Purgatory from the inside without knowing, for sure, that they’d be able to get back out.

Purgatory was a place in between. Angels and demons didn’t go to Purgatory when they died; Dean knew that from all the time he’d spent there. Not a trace of angel (besides Cas) or Demon anywhere. It wasn’t a byway between anything; and he supposed there was probably a similar gateway between Purgatory and Heaven.

It would only make sense, given that there was a portal between Purgatory and Earth, after all.

Accidental rips, possibly caused by rogue Reapers (or maybe Reapers who were doing their job just as they were supposed to) to travel back and forth between destinations. Or, Hell, maybe those were Death’s little doors. The thing was, Dean had no clue.

“I’m bushed. We can look into it more later.” Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder, squeezing to convey - again - that he was happy to see Sam topside again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can stalk our Lord and Dictator (aka the person who does 90% of all the writing for Team Abaddon) on Tumblr at [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com).


	6. Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one ties chapter one (Church) and chapter 4 (Creepin Up The Backstairs) together.

Dean pressed himself against Castiel's back, hands skimming along his sides – arms hooking around his waist as he pressed open mouthed kisses along the column of his neck. Castiel gripped the doorknob of the back entrance to the church, breathing in while rocking himself back against Dean.

“You gonna get that door open, Cas?” Dean grinned against Castiel's ear at the sound of the key sliding into the lock, swinging the door open and pulling Dean inside. They stumbled over each other, crashing into the wall with a noisy thud. Dean gripped Castiel's ass, lifting him up. Castiel pressed his knees against Dean's hips, arching his back and pressing his hands down on Dean's shoulders.

Dean's back pressed hard against the wall, knees bent and feet planted firmly against the carpeted floor. He sucked at Castiel's throat, biting and then lapping at the indentations he left.

“Who knew a few hand jobs during church would turn into a kink. Let me down.” Castiel pushed Dean's shirt up as soon as his feet hit the ground, kissing down his torso as he dropped to his knees, mouthing along the flesh just above the top of his jeans. He popped the button, drug the zipper down, and pulled Dean's cock from the slit in his boxers.

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean threaded his fingers through Castiel's hair, gripping it at the root and thrusting forward the moment Castiel's lips were around the head of his cock.

Castiel relaxed his throat, taking Dean down all the way down until his nose was buried in Dean's pubic hair. Castiel pulled back, Dean gripping his hair and reeling him back in. Castiel looked up at Dean, pressing his tongue flat against the underside of Dean's cock and sliding up.

He pulled all the way off, running the back of his hand across his mouth and gripping Dean's thighs tight, “You know, Dean, you shouldn't swear in the lord's house.”

“Goddammit, Cas, stop being a cock tease.” Castiel winked, chuckling before taking Dean back in his mouth. Dean pressed his hands to the sides of his face, palms pressing into his cheeks with his fingers curling over his ears, holding on tight and fucking into Castiel's mouth with sharp thrusts.

Castiel felt drool slipping past his lips, mouth opening just a little wider to make sure Dean didn't catch himself on his teeth. He could feel Dean hit the back of his throat; eyes watering with each thrust and the threat of choking just right there, before Dean finally pulled out and jerked Cas up by the collar of his shirt, their teeth clacking as they kissed.

Castiel pulled away, catching Dean's hand in his and pulling him along towards his father's office. He let go of Dean's hand, pulling off his shirt and leaving it on the floor as he stepped inside, “On the desk, Dean.” Castiel turned, watching Dean pass him by and pull himself up onto the desk. He leaned back on his hands, getting comfortable as Cas toed off his sneakers and pulled his pants down. He stepped out of them and stepped towards Dean, sliding his pants down to his ankles and taking the bottle of lube from Dean's pocket and setting it on the desk next to Dean's hand.

Dean watched in interest as Castiel untied his boots and pulled them off, pants following suit.

“Your dad is gonna shit kittens and forbid you from seeing me again if he finds out about this.”

“All he said is,” Castiel stood up and stared at Dean as seriously as he could, “ _You are not allowed to run around having sinful, drunken relations with that Winchester boy._ He never once said I couldn't have sinful, sober relations with you.”

“You're a devious little shit, you know that?”

“Turn around, Dean.” Castiel helped Dean up, maneuvering Dean so his hands were on the desk, bent forward with his back bent and ass up. Castiel bit Dean's ass, pulling the cheeks apart and licked. Dean let out a huff of a moan, lowering himself down so his chest was pressing against the desk, the edge digging uncomfortably into his stomach.

Castiel lapped at Dean's asshole, pushing his tongue inside and humming. Dean pushed back, teeth pinching his bottom lip and his eyes stuttering shut with each thrust of Castiel's tongue. Castiel slowly trailed his fingers down Dean's dick, the tip of his tongue circling Dean's asshole and pushing back in. His fingers trailed down, stopping briefly to fondle Dean's balls before he brought his hand 'round and ran one finger alongside his tongue, pushing it inside of Dean slowly to the first knuckle.

Dean looked back when Castiel stood, following his movements as Castiel picked up the bottle of lube. He kept watching as Castiel poured some out, coating his fingers and dropping the bottle. Dean breathed out as Castiel pushed his finger in, then slowly drew it. He repeated the motion in time to Dean's breathing, letting him adjust before pulling all the way out and pressing two fingers in.

He slowly fucked Dean open with his fingers, scissoring them and adding a third finger. Dean pushed back, wincing slightly when Castiel's fingernail scratched him.

“Need to touch you, Cas. Fuck.” Castiel pulled away from Dean, letting him turn over and sit back on the desk. Castiel climbed up, straddling Dean and taking their cocks in hand. Dean pressed his hands against the small of Castiel's back, pulling him closer as Castiel jacked them off.

Dean didn't last much longer, coming with his face buried in the crook of Castiel's neck to muffle the moan. He wrapped his hand around Castiel's cock along with Castiel's, whispering filthy words of encouragement into Castiel's ear until he came, hips snapping forward – legs twitching and chest heaving as Dean brought Castiel's hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean.

“And you talk about me being a cock tease.” Castiel leaned his head forward, resting on Dean's shoulder as they caught their breath, moving only when his legs started to go to sleep and his knees began to ache.

“You crashing at my place tonight, or your parents expecting you home tonight?” Dean grabbed the discarded bottle of lube, sitting on the floor to pull on his boots while Castiel put his father's desk back in order.

“I told them I was sleeping over at Anna's. She said that as long as I actually come over in the morning and make her breakfast in bed she'd cover for me.”

“So, what, no morning sex? Your sister is evil.” Dean followed Castiel out towards the door they came in through, stopping every so often to make sure they hadn't knocked over any of the potted plants on the numerous small tables lining the wall.

“I still haven't heard the end of it from Gabriel for when we took his Jeep out; I'd rather have to wake up early and make my sister breakfast than to owe Gabriel anything.” They stepped out into the back parking lot, making their way to the car. Dean scanned the parking lot before they made their way into the small patch of woods behind the church to the old dirt road where they'd left the Impala.

–--

Dean woke up with two fingers inside him and a hand around dick. He turned his face to the side, biting down on his pillow to stifle a moan as Castiel crooked one finger and moved it around until it brushed against his prostate.

“Good morning, Dean.” The sun wasn't even up yet, the bright red number on the digital clock on his night stand reading 5:45 A.M. Castiel fucked Dean slowly with his fingers, loosening him up and stretching him open with small thrusts and by spreading his fingers apart.

He tried to speak; tried to ask for more while keeping the pillow in his mouth. It came out muffled, a garble of half syllables and little moans that Castiel must have been able to decipher because his hands were suddenly gone and Dean could hear the lid to the bottle of lube creak open and the sound of the thick, slick goo squelching as Castiel spread it over his cock.

Dean rolled off of his side onto his hands and knees, catching Castiel's eyes for a moment before he disappeared behind him and began to slowly push in; he took Dean back in hand, slowly stroking him to distract him from the burn of the stretch as he slowly pushed in.

Castiel intended to give Dean a moment to adjust, only to have his good intentions brushed to the side as Dean pushed back, taking all of Castiel and slapping his hand over his own mouth to quiet himself.

Castiel took his cue from Dean, pulling nearly all the way out and pushing back in quickly. The bed creaked under them, the old springs squeaking in protest as Castiel slammed himself into Dean repeatedly; hands gripping Dean's hips, his still lube-slick fingers slipping against the sweaty flesh.

Dean kept one hand pressed firmly against his mouth, muffling each cry and moan until he couldn't hold himself up with one arm and half collapsing onto the bed, face buried in the pillows and arms crossed above his head.

Castiel leaned forward, licked the sweat from Dean's lower back, bracing himself against the bed with one hand and gripping Dean's hip tighter with the other. Dean spread his legs wider, back curving more so his ass was higher and chest more firmly planted against the mattress.

Castiel pushed in, hips rocking in small circles as he stretched himself out over Dean, toes digging into the fitted sheet, arms stretching up and covering Dean's hands with his own. Dean was pressed flat against the bed, the friction of the sheets against his dick nice, but not nearly enough. He pulled one arm down from under Castiel's, took himself in hand and stroked himself the best he could with the little space he had.

Castiel pulled out and Dean rolled over, instantly wrapping his legs around Castiel's hips while pulling him down to kiss – their tongue slipping against each other as Castiel pushed back inside of Dean. The pace was slow, each thrust hard, jolting Dean's body so his vision went temporarily black and his breath caught in his throat.

Dean stroked himself at a faster pace, hand desperately moving over sensitive flesh. He came as Castiel pulled out one last time, back arching off the bed and his free hand fisting the blanket off to his side. He missed the sight of Cas bringing himself off with his hand, only mildly registering the feel of warmth against his pelvis that rolled along with the curve of his body.

Castiel flopped down on the bed next to Dean, chest rising and falling and his eyes shut as he basked in the afterglow. Dean reached over the side of the bed, looking for the nearest item made of cloth to clean himself off with. Castiel pulled him back towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling the blanket back up over them.

“I need to get cleaned up, Cas.”

“We'll deal with it later, just go back to sleep.”

Dean had a retort, but it was lost in a yawn as he settled into the warmth and closed his eyes. The next time he woke up, it was to Castiel's phone ringing as the other teen fell off the side of the bed.

“What the Hell?”

“Shit, it's already noon. Anna's called six times. She's going to be so pissed when I get to her house.” Castiel stumbled four times while trying to get dressed. Dean watched him lazily, not bothering to even move. He had plans to go back to sleep for at least another hour once Castiel was on his way to Anna's.

Castiel stopped before he walked out the door, turned, and climbed back on the bed. He straddled Dean, running his fingers through Dean's hair while kissing him. He pulled back with a smile, jumped off the bed, and headed for the door.

“I'll see you later, Dean.”

“Tell your sister I said thanks for covering for us.” Dean waited until he heard the front door slam shut before rolling onto his stomach and going back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can stalk our Lord and Dictator (aka the person who does 90% of all the writing for Team Abaddon) on Tumblr at [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com).


End file.
